


Keikikāne

by skyewardfitzsimmonsphillinda



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Don't Worry About It, F/M, Family, Gen, M/M, Ohana, adopted dysfunctional families, but basically this is just steve adopting strays, eventually some steve/danno
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-05 13:44:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10309427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyewardfitzsimmonsphillinda/pseuds/skyewardfitzsimmonsphillinda
Summary: Ohana. In which Nahele tries to pretend that it doesn't matter that he doesn't have anyone. Set immediately after Nahele's dad goes to prison. AU. You'll figure it out.





	1. ka mua

Nahele was sitting in the car again – had been for hours, actually – when Steve came looking again.

 

Steve slid into the driver’s seat beside him and shut the door.

 

Nahele sniffed and drew his sleeve over his eyes. “Did you arrest my dad?”

 

Steve heaved a deep sigh. “Yea,” he said quietly. “Yea. We did.”

 

“What am I gonna do?” Nahele couldn’t look up at Steve.

 

Steve put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll stay here,” he said finally. “With me.”

 

Shock jerked Nahele’s head up. “ _What_?”

 

“Look at me,” Steve said. “I told you I would always protect you, and that’s what I’m gonna do. You’ve stayed here often enough anyway. How does that sound, buddy?”

 

Nahele stared at him, and then nodded, his throat constricting. “Good,” he whispered. “Yea. Good.”

 

Steve nodded and opened his door. “Come on, buddy.”

 

“I gotta go,” Nahele muttered. “I got work at two.”

 

“No you don’t,” Steve said. “Not today.”

 

Nahele followed Steve out of the garage into the house, scraping his sleeve over his eyes one more time. “Steve? What are you talking about?”

 

Steve held the door open for him. “I talked to Kamekona. You don’t need to go into work today.”

 

Nahele nodded gratefully. “What about you?”

 

Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I turned off my phone,” he said. “I figure we could use some dinner and then I’m going to work on the car for a bit. You up for helping me?”

 

Nahele stared at him. “Steve…Steve, you don’t have to…I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

 

Steve just raised an eyebrow, and then turned and walked into the kitchen.

 

Nahele followed him. “Steve,” he protested weakly. “I’m serious. You’ve got a lot to do. You don’t have to” –

 

“You done?” Steve asked gruffly. “I’m not leaving. That’s one of the rules of giving a damn.”

 

“Five-O is going to wonder where you are.”

 

“They know exactly where I am,” Steve said calmly. “Come on, buddy. It’s okay to let people take care of you sometimes.”

 

Nahele looked at the ground. “Yea,” he muttered. “Yea. Okay.”

 

“C’mere,” Steve said. “You can set the table.”

 

And that was the end of that – Nahele was grateful, despite the nagging doubt that he was, after all, being a bother.

 

///

 

As fun as it was living with Steve – and it was; he was with the person he respected most in the whole world and he had a wild, dysfunctional ohana to help him with homework and surf with and hang out with – Nahele spent weeks trying to live up to his highest standard.

 

Do all your homework. Help with all the chores. All of them. Keep quiet. Don’t be a bother.

 

 _Shut the hell up, Nahele. You know better than to talk when I’m talking_.

 

Don’t get yourself kicked out of this one.

 

Because always, at the back of his mind, was the question – what kind of fuck-up would it take to lose this ohana; an ohana he had not earned in the first place; an ohana he had stolen his way into one terrifying day when he was fourteen?

 

A few weeks after he had moved in Kalea invited him to another party. Nahele had gone to parties like it before and he had never really considered that anyone might object. The parties were pretty low-key; some kids had a few beers but Nahele never did. Mostly kids danced or played pool; some went out back and night-surfed.

 

It had never mattered much to any of the foster parents; they had considered it a minimally dangerous social event and not as bad as some of the college parties he could be going to.

 

But when Friday night came and Steve asked him where he was going, Nahele came abruptly to the realization that Steve McGarrett was going to be nothing like any of his former foster parents.

 

And something stopped him; somehow the truth stuck in his throat and he said something about doing homework and playing pool with Kalea at his house. No mention of any party.

 

As usual, it wasn’t much of a party, but this time, when Kalea offered him a beer, Nahele said yes and tried not to think about Steve and ohana and how the only person in the world who shared Nahele’s blood was in prison for murder.

 

It wasn’t until the new kid at school – Evan – showed up with a bag full of meth that Nahele began to feel the deep, sick, desperate feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had not felt since he had been picked up for stealing a car on his fourteenth birthday.

 

He said no to the meth; of course he did, despite Evan’s sneer, and he left early.

 

Steve was on the front porch when Nahele reached home. He nodded to Nahele.

 

“Your case wrap up early?” Nahele tried to keep his voice casual. _Don’t smell the beer. Please don’t smell the beer_.

 

Steve sighed deeply. “Yea,” he said. “Yea. It was a tough one.”

 

Disregarding his better judgment, Nahele sat down next to Steve. Steve was going to smell the beer, damnit, but he couldn’t just keep walking when Steve was sitting like that; shoulders stooped and forehead drawn. “You okay?”

 

Steve glanced at him and then clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I will be,” he said. “Thanks.”

 

“What happened?” Nahele took a deep breath and settled in, stretching his legs out in front of him.

 

“I had to arrest a man this morning,” Steve said slowly. “In front of his kid. We didn’t have a choice.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Nahele said.

 

“Me too,” Steve said.

 

“What’d you arrest him on?”

 

“Murder. Extortion. Drug trafficking,” Steve answered. “He was…he was a bad man. He’d hurt a lot of innocent people. But…his kid hadn’t. And you know what else? He had some dirty meth, and we couldn’t find all of it, so…so some of that shit is out there on the island now.”

 

Nahele looked up at Steve. “You’re gonna find it,” he said confidently. “You always do.”

 

“Thanks, buddy,” Steve said. “Nahele, do you know the kid? Evan? I want to make sure he’s okay.”

 

Nahele froze. Evan; the meth, the reckless grin, the hollow look on the boy’s face – all of it made sense now. “Yea,” Nahele said numbly. “I know him.”

 

Steve looked sharply at him, but he said nothing. His gaze didn’t leave Nahele, as if he was waiting for something or as if he was considering something. “Well,” he said finally. “Let me know if you hear anything about the kid. If there’s something I can do.”

 

Nahele paused. “Okay,” he said. “Yea. Of course.”

 

Something that looked like disappointment flashed across Steve’s face, and then he nodded and stood. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m gonna head inside. You coming?”

 

Nahele shook his head, and when Steve walked away Nahele was left feeling as if he had just lost something irreplaceable.


	2. noho pu au mai iaʻu

Steve was called into work the following afternoon, and Nahele almost texted Kalea asking for a ride to the party.

 

Except.

 

Except Kalea texted him first. _Hey dude. Evan’s is gonna be cray tonight. He’s got the meth and he’s going to smoke whatever he hasn’t given away by midnight. How lit is that?_

Nahele got in a cab to the palace instead; walked numbly past the receptionist without even saying hello, and sat down in Steve’s office to wait for him. He was still there half an hour later, his head in his hands, when Steve, Chin, and Kono entered HQ.

 

Chin saw him first, and he nudged Steve.

 

Steve entered the office a moment later and shut the door behind him. “Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

 

Nahele shook his head, hating the tightness in his throat. “I have to tell you something.”

 

Steve nodded, folding his arms and leaning back against the doorjamb. “Okay,” he said. “Shoot.”

 

“Last night,” Nahele said. “I was…I was at a party. I…I lied to you.”

 

Steve’s mouth tightened into a thin line, but otherwise his expression remained neutral. He pulled the other chair out and sat down, his eyes remaining trained on Nahele. “Keep going.”

 

“We…I go almost every weekend. I never thought about it before and there are only a few kids there who drink and we mostly just hang out and play pool but I…I didn’t know what you would think.”

 

“I think,” Steve said briefly. “That I would have liked that better than a lie.”

 

Nahele dropped his gaze, his throat constricting again. “Yea,” he whispered. “And Steve…Steve, last night I said yes to the beer. I just had a few sips and I wasn’t drunk and I _swear_ it was the first time but…but…”

 

“But you said yes,” Steve said. “Okay. Nahele” –

 

“That’s not all.” If he didn’t say it all now, he would lose whatever courage he had. “Evan. Evan was there last night. He had meth. He offered me some.”

 

Steve stared at him, anger and concern flashing across his face. “Tell me you said no to the meth.”

 

“I said no,” Nahele said quickly. “But…Steve, there’s a party at Evan’s tonight and Kalea just texted me and said that Evan…that Evan…”

 

“What?” Steve cut him off. “What is Evan going to do?”

 

“He’s going to smoke all of it,” Nahele said. “Whatever he can’t get rid of. At midnight tonight, he’s going to smoke all of it. Steve, you gotta stop him. I’m sorry and I know you’re pissed at me and I know I screwed up but please, you gotta stop Evan or he could die” –

 

Steve stood. “You stay here,” he said shortly. “We’re going to get Evan.”

 

“Steve?” Nahele attempted, his throat closing up. “Steve, are you going to ask Sean to place me somewhere else? I would understand” –

 

Steve stopped short. “Because you screwed up?” he shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “No. I’m not going anywhere. But we are going to talk about your punishment when I get back, you understand? You keep your ass in that chair.”

 

 _That_ was an option Nahele hadn’t even considered, and it brought its own share of anxieties. Steve wasn’t shipping him away yet; that much was good. But Steve was also a hardass Navy Seal and fuck if Nahele wanted to face him when he came back.

 

When Steve walked out the door of the office and called the rest of the Five-O team to follow him, Nahele thought – just briefly – of running. There were a hundred reasons why he should get the hell out of here before Steve came back and kicked his ass– but Steve hadn’t ditched him.

 

Steve hadn’t ditched him, so it would hardly be fair of Nahele to ditch him just because he was terrified of having to talk to Steve about the party and the lie and the beer.

 

It was the longest hour of Nahele’s life.

 

When Five-O came back, they scattered quickly – maybe none of them wanted to be in earshot of the confrontation either.

 

Steve entered the office a moment later and shut the door firmly behind him. He pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Nahele. “Hey.”

 

Nahele shifted in his chair. “Hey.”

 

“We got Evan,” Steve said. “And the meth.”

 

Nahele nodded. “Is he…is he okay?”

 

“Yea,” Steve said. “For tonight at least.”

 

Nahele looked down. “Good.”

 

“I’m glad you told me,” Steve said, his voice still impossibly calm. “You probably saved the kid’s life.”

 

Nahele’s head snapped up. _Not_ what he had been expecting.

 

“Of course, you’re still grounded for lying to me and drinking,” Steve continued. “And we need to have a long talk about that and your friend Kalea and what I expect from you. You understand?”

 

Nahele nodded. “Yea,” he whispered. “Steve…Steve, I’m sorry I lied.”

 

Steve hesitated, and then he stood and clapped his hand on Nahele’s shoulder. “I know,” he said. “We’ll finish this conversation at home, okay? It’s been a long fucking day and you and I both need to go home. Come on. Do you want to stop at Kamekona’s to pick up shrimp first?”

 

Nahele followed Steve out of the office. “For real?”

 

Steve smiled slightly as Nahele fell into step beside him. “Yea, for real,” he said. “You’re grounded, not sentenced to solitary confinement and bread and water.”

 

Nahele felt a smile tug on the corner of his mouth. “Danny would say” –

 

“Do _not_ quote Danny Williams to me,” Steve cut him off. “Or I swear to god you will be grounded until you turn eighteen.”

 

This time, Nahele actually grinned. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

 

“Please do,” Steve said. “That man has been a pain in my ass for the past six _fucking_ years.”

 

“Are we talking about me?” Danny intercepted them as they reached the steps outside.

 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Why are you still here?”

 

Kono and Chin were at the bottom of the steps.

 

“We all are,” Chin said.

 

“We had to make sure you didn’t kill our kid,” Kono added.

 

 _Our_.

 

Nahele choked.

 

Steve rolled his eyes. “So I take it we are _all_ going to Kamekona’s?”

 

They walked there together just as it was getting dark, Nahele surrounded by the four most badass people he knew as he contemplated what the word _our_ meant to him after tonight.

 

///

 

They finished that conversation while tinkering beneath the hood of the Marquis later that night.

 

Steve was calmer than Nahele had imagined he would be – in fact, Nahele was holding it together just fine until he handed Steve a wrench and Steve caught his arm.

 

“Look at me,” Steve said sharply. “What you did…telling me about Evan, even though you thought it was going to get you kicked out…that was brave. That was really damn brave, and I” –

 

Nahele jerked away in surprise. His eyes stung, and it must be the damn dust in here, it _must_ be. “No,” he said sharply. “No.”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Steve said. “But you also need to know that I’m not leaving. I’m not walking away. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear before. I don’t have much experience being someone’s dad. So… yea. I’m sorry.”

 

Nahele rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t have much experience being someone’s kid,” he said, trying to lighten his tone. “So I guess we’re even there.”

 

Steve hooked a hand under Nahele’s elbow and pulled him roughly into his arms. “Yea,” he said. “I guess so.”

 

“I thought…I thought you were gonna kick my ass,” Nahele mumbled the words into Steve’s shoulder a moment later.

 

“I will,” Steve promised, his tone sharpening slightly. “That’s a promise. This happens again – lying to me, drinking at a party – I will kick your ass.”

 

Nahele should move back and step away and keep working on the car, but he stayed exactly where he was, leaning on Steve’s shoulder for a moment longer because that made more sense than saying any of it out loud – _thank you for staying_ or _I’m sorry I was a lying jackass this weekend_ or _this is better than the damn party anyway_.

 

Ass-kickings or not, this was an ohana he was grateful for. An ohana he had not expected to keep.

 

And an ohana worth sticking around for.


End file.
